


[ Two Minus One ]

by VesperCat



Series: Elio/Oliver fics [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending, slight A/B/O themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperCat/pseuds/VesperCat
Summary: “You need to tell him, Elio, the sooner the better,” Annella encourages her son, pats his knee and gets out of the car.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: Elio/Oliver fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252790
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	[ Two Minus One ]

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the friends who read, made suggestions and changes.

“You need to tell him, Elio, the sooner the better,” Annella encourages her son, pats his knee and gets out of the car.

Elio stays seated, pulls the latest sonogram out of his coat’s pocket and tries to make sense of the grainy blobs on the grayscale cards. In the car’s side mirror he sees Oliver’s large frame approaching, quickly he re-folds the sonogram and stuffs it back in the coat pocket. Gets out of the car and retrieves some of the groceries from the back seat just as Oliver arrives.

“I can help,” Oliver offers, motioning to take the overflowing brown paper bag.

Elio adjusts the bag and answers, “I can manage,” then slowly stalks off to the snow covered villa and gets chastised by Mafalda in Italian when he gets to the door.

+×+×+×+

Escaping dinner drudgery, with a promise of eating something later, Elio makes his way to Samuel’s study. Takes his shoes off and gets on the faded mauve couch.

He slowly pulls the jerseys up, a shiver runs down his spine and goose bumps form over the exposed skin. Holding the hems with his hands first before pushing them under his chin, he twists and turns his body in front of the framed mirror, the light and shadows playing over his pale skin. 

He splays his hands over his belly that has begun to show some signs that another being is growing inside of him. There's a small, almost invisible line of slight discolouration adjacent to his naval.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn't–” Oliver apologises, turning his gaze to the side.

Elio quickly pulls the many layers of clothing down, gets off the couch and shrugs noncommittally when Oliver looks up again.

“Your mom told me that you are...” Oliver starts, gesturing in the younger man’s direction, “hence the tiredness and...”

Elio nods his head in acknowledgement, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling slightly betrayed yet relieved that it was his mom and not him that broke the main news to Oliver.

“I just came to put,” Oliver starts, lifting up a book from a box under his arm, “these away,”

Elio stays until four books have made it onto the shelf and then retreats to his room. He tries to lie down and rest but felt unexpectedly restless. Tries to listen to his music but can't decide on a song. He tries to read but can't settle on what book to read.

After awhile he stands up and goes back to Oliver.

“Am I a novelty?”

“Novelty?” Oliver repeats, a frown forming, “You could never be a novelty, Elio,”

Before Elio could answer a sharp stabbing sensation occurs in his abdomen, knocking his breath away from the pain. Sitting on the closests thing in reach, a mismatched chair and grips onto his belly in search of relief.

There's a growing patch of wetness appearing on Elio’s thighs, he dabs his fingers over the cooling liquid and they come back wet with red. Oliver notices Elio’s pupils expand before they roll back and Elio’s body goes limp on the chair.

“Oh, no, no, no, no. Come on! Elio stay awake, okay. Annella! Samuel! Mafalda!” Oliver shouts, foregoing his respective ‘Mrs. P’ and ‘Pro’.

From getting Elio into the car, driving to and then admitting Elio into the hospital, it's all a fear induced panic and blur. The silence of waiting for answers deafening in the busy hallway.

A nurse comes to collect the small group, guiding them through the green doors with a big β painted on them.

‘So Elio is a beta like me. Well almost like me.’ Oliver thinks as they stop at a numbered door.

Understandably Annella and Samuel meet and talk with the attending doctor whilst they enter Elio’s ward, leaving Oliver at the ward's door.

A while later a haggard looking Samuel appears from behind the ward door, sighs and looks to Oliver.

Oliver quickly stands up, “How is he doing?”

‘’Best that you see for yourself,” Samuel suggests, giving the taller man’s shoulder a squeeze before sitting where Oliver had sat and taking his glasses off to rub his face. 

Oliver takes a deep breath in, keeps it, exhales. He pushes the door open and finds that there's only one bed in use, even though Elio has the whole ward to himself the barrier forming curtains are drawn.

He slowly pulls a section of the faded white curtain divider open and tries to quietly enter into Elio’s assigned space. Elio is curled up on the big bed, bed sheet drawn high up, covering his shoulders.

Annella is sitting next to the bed, one hand holding her son’s hand, the other gently guiding the longer locks out of Elio’s face and whispering to him in a mixture of Italian, French, German and English.

Elio looks to see who entered his curtained bubble and is content that it's Oliver and not one of the many nurses visiting again. He lowers the bleached white sheets, revealing the patterned hospital gown and Oliver is instantly drawn to the dark Hierarchy Mark contrasting with the pallid skin.

“I'm going to ask when you'll be released,” Annella announces, giving Elio’s hand a squeeze and disappearing behind the curtain.

“Sit,” is the raspy command.

Oliver sits on the end of the bed, hesitantly and carefully placing a hand on a covered shin.

“Hey, are you feeling better?” Oliver questions softly, “Is the little one alright?”

“No, they,” is Elio’s whispered reply, ignoring the first question, he swallows thickly, “they, uh, they didn't make it.”

Oliver feels the sting of tears forming in his eyes and dread in his chest as he sees Elio suffering. A long silence fills the allocated space.

“How many months were you...”

“Estimated late five or early six,”

Oliver doesn't breathe for a few seconds after calculating that conception must have taken place in late July or early August.

“I haven't been with anyone since you, Oliver,” Elio adds to the silence.

The hand that's been stroking up and down the slender shin stops again. Having something like this implied and it being confirmed are two completely different things.

“Elio? Why didn't you tell me?” Oliver queries sternly.

Elio turns to lay on his other side, dislodging Oliver’s warmth from his shin, “What was I supposed to do? I didn't _know_ that I _could_ in the first place and I was too far along to– and you're getting _married_ in a few weeks,”

Oliver sighs, “The whole reason I am here is because I wanted to tell you that the wedding is cancelled,”

“Go, I want to be alone,”

+×+×+×+

Oliver catches movement in his peripheral vision, removes his head that was resting on his hand and keeps his reading place. Shifts himself so that he’s resting on his forearm instead.

“Elio?” Oliver questions, Elio just shrugs.

Oliver flips his book closed, places it on the side table and queries; “You doing okay?”

Elio’s head does an up nod then a horizontal shake, Oliver shuffles backwards and pats the thick duvet which prompts the younger man to climb onto the bed. Elio wiggles himself as close to Oliver as possible, arm draped over Oliver’s waist, head resting on Oliver’s pillow and feet and knees almost entangling with the older man’s.

Elio gives a small smile, fingers tracing over Oliver’s facial features. Oliver allows it until Elio shifts his weight over Oliver, arms keeping him up and tries to kiss him.

“Elio! No,” Oliver grips the smaller wrists in his hand, effectively stopping Elio from furthering his impulsive actions, “Your body went through a lot, _you_ are going through a lot. We need to heal first and then talk before anything like that can happen. Okay?”

Elio nods his head, voice small, defeated, “Okay.”

Oliver slowly lets go of Elio’s wrists and settles back to where he was, Elio follows but lays with his back to Oliver.

It's not the best nor the worst silence they had endured together.

“So you're a beta,” Oliver starts, thumbing over the Greek letter on Elio’s inner forearm, just before the slender elbow’s bend. He remembers how fascinated Elio was with his own Hierarchy Mark on his upper thigh.

“Yeah,” Elio confirms, “who knew an omega pair could make a beta,”

Oliver smiles, Elio’s spunk is slowly returning.

“Do you think that because I am recognized as a beta and that's what caused the miscarriage?”

“I'm biased so no I don't think you being a beta affected...”

“Hmmm,” Elio hums, pulling Oliver’s hand to his chest but gives no further response.

Oliver doesn't push for more information, feeling the grip on his hand loosen and relax. Flicking the bedside lamp’s switch, the room descends into darkness.

+×+×+×+

“Oh,” Oliver realises, squeezing the living daylights out of his toothpaste tube to get the last dollop of blue striped toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

He attempts to throw the empty tube in the bin, misses and brushes his teeth. He goes to pick the tube up and place it in the bin but before he leaves, he notices the white framed printed films next to his crumpled toothpaste tube.

“No, it can't be,” Oliver sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking over the white, grey and black sonograms.

‘This is– was our little creation.‘

Oliver strokes his thumb over the sonogram with the latest date, a lump forming in his throat. Tries to keep his sobs down whilst Elio is still asleep in his warm bed.

He goes to Elio’s desk, finds a scissor and cuts one of the pictures off. Then selects a pen and writes; _You might not want these now but keep them. _and slips the sonograms between the pages of an Armance on Elio’s bookshelf. He returns to curl around a sleeping Elio protectively after placing his part of the pictures away in his travel documents.__

__+×+×+×+_ _

__“Ah, look who's awake,” Annella says standing up to give Elio a quick hug and sits down again._ _

__Oliver stands up abruptly, even causing Mafalda to almost drop a plate and glass she brought for Elio._ _

__“I think,” Oliver looks over to Samuel who gives a subtle nod, “I am going back to the States soon to set in motion my immigration to Italy,”_ _

__Elio’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets in surprise and excitement. He pulls Oliver's wooden chair away, goes on his tiptoes, wraps his arms around Oliver’s neck and dives in for a deep kiss._ _

__Someone clears their throat in a hint to stop from the other side of the table._ _

__Oliver straightens up again, breaking the kiss but keeps Elio close, by wrapping an arm around his waist. Heavy blushes forming on both their cheeks._ _


End file.
